9 AM
by panickedfish
Summary: Kaiba works late through the night to try and save his company. A relic from his past appears, giving him a new perspective.


**author's note**: I had to re-upload this story due to technical difficulties.

as per usual, I own nothing.

* * *

The glowing bluish-white light of his laptop screen illuminated the buttons Kaiba tapped. He was furiously working on an extremely important document—this deal had to go through or else Kaiba Corp stood to lose a great deal of its investor's money. Normally, the extensive Kaiba family fortune would more than compensate for these losses, but between developing new technologies, hosting tournaments, and renting blimps, his company's finances just weren't adding up.

He had fired his most recent team of executives few hours ago, not trusting that they would, in their ignorance, do something to botch this deal. Though he knew it was the right call, he did regret the haste with which he made his decision. Now he was forced to deal with the fallout all by himself, taking on the role of both owner and CEO. He had already been working around the clock for several days, but it seemed that there were always some minor adjustments which forced him to change.

Kaiba leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes so hard that he saw constellations. He sighed and lowered his head onto his desk. His computer whirred softly. Kaiba opened his eyes and struggled to bring the grain of his smooth polished desk into focus. The closeness was too much for his already taxed eyes, so Kaiba sat back up in his chair. He returned to his work and the sound of fingers on keys filled the room again.

Ten minutes later the phone rang.

Kaiba reached over for the receiver and his hand knocked over a half-empty energy drink can. Kaiba cursed under his breath but was relieved when the liquid spilled in the opposite direction from his computer. Ignoring the ringing, he stood and walked to his adjoining bathroom. He grabbed a clean hand towel from the rack by the sink and, returning to his desk, he threw it over the mess.

Returning his eyes to the screen, he sat down and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Seto, do you know what time it is?" Mokuba's voice sounded vaguely accusatory.

Kaiba recognized Mokuba's voice. He looked over to the bottom of his screen and sighed. "Three-fifty. You should be asleep."

"You said you'd be home by midnight!"

"Something came up."

"Seto, I'm scared. It's really quiet here."

"That's because it's night," Kaiba said. He backspaced with one finger and mused about the best way to reword an article of the agreement—he had to protect the company's assets.

"And you fired everyone else," Mokuba said grumpily.

"Hmmm."

"Are you even listening? I really need my big brother now."

Kaiba sighed and adjusted his grip on the phone. He tore his eyes away from the screen and stared into the dark space within his office. "Mokuba, I have to finish this by noon tomorrow. The amount of work I still have to do would ordinarily take me twice as long."

"So you're not even coming home?" Mokuba didn't even try to keep the panic out of his voice.

"I'll send a driver for you in the morning and you can sleep here if you want. But I have to get back to work."

"Seto, don't—"

Kaiba hung up and, after a moment's thought, pulled the phone cord out of its socket on the floor. He turned his attention back to the screen. He couldn't afford any other distractions.

* * *

Kaiba ended up having to dry up the spill and dispose of the towel himself. It was a nuisance and he again berated himself for being so impatient and firing his staff. Surely he could have kept the cleaners, at least until their contract was up at the end of the month.

Kaiba went back to typing and editing the document. He cracked open another energy drink.

When he reached for a pen to make a note; his fingers were slow to respond. Frustrated, he leaned back in his chair and stretched. His pace had slowed down to a crawl and it seemed that even a man like him couldn't achieve the impossible. But that fact had little effect on his determination. If he quit when a situation seemed impossible, whether while duelling or in his professional life, there was no way he would have ever been able to achieve his present level of success.

Kaiba finished off his energy drink and opened another. Sipping it, he scrolled through the document and was pleased that he could finally move on to the next section. His confidence dwindled in the next instant, though, when he looked over to the time. It was nearing four thirty. In a few hours, the sun would be coming up over the horizon and he would be down to the eleventh hour. Kaiba looked at the document and realized that he still had a ways to go. He wasn't even halfway done.

Frustrated, he slammed his hand on the table. He put his head in his hands and focused on deep breathing. Every moment he was distracted, he wasted valuable time.

He gradually became aware of the sound of footsteps in the hall.

"Mokuba, what are you doing here?"

The footsteps stopped outside his door.

"I told you to go to sleep."

Kaiba watched the handle of the door lower and waited for his brother to come in. Such an annoyance.

The door opened.

Kaiba's new guest was not Mokuba. Smiling, with her eyes lowered, a woman walked into the room and closed the door behind her. She was wearing a cream coloured blazer and skirt. Her long white hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, framing the delicate features of her face. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ears and then raised her head to look at him. Even in the dark of his office, Kaiba could see her striking blue eyes.

"K-K-Kisara?" Kaiba gasped.

The girl took a few steps towards his desk but moved no closer. After a moment of stunned immobility, the thought of his work obligations completely left his mind and Kaiba jumped out of his chair. He rushed over to the apparition in front of him but she held up a hand to stop him.

"Please, don't." He smile was sad.

Kaiba froze. His fingers twitched, partly because they were aching to reach out to her, but mostly because there was a part of him which, regardless of the situation, didn't like being told what to do. Somehow, though, the connection forged by looking into her age-old eyes was more than enough intimacy. Kaiba felt a shudder beginning in his feet and extending to his soul.

"What are you doing here?" He never expected to see her again, at least in the human sense. His past life connected them, but their physical closeness was a string that had been severed eons ago. What gave her the right to wander back into his life now? His voice might have been a whisper, but he could feel his emotions rising up and in danger of overflowing to the point of anger. Somehow, in the back of his mind, this meeting felt like a betrayal. He struggled to put a name to what he was feeling.

Kiasara looked at him fondly. "Of course that would be the first question you asked me," she laughed and her voice was every bit as sweet as the golden age of the land of their shared history. Kaiba was mesmerized. He moved to a small seating area in front of his desk – on one of two couches separated by a coffee table. His computer reposed on the desk, still whirring quietly. His work had taken on the role of a background prop and Kaiba couldn't care less.

"Are you all right?" he didn't know what to ask. He sensed that she was being playful, but wasn't sure what the enigmatic woman was after. What purpose could she have in appearing to him?

Kisara smiled at him and when their eyes met Kaiba found himself leaning towards her. She remained silent but did not reciprocate his advances.

Kaiba massaged his eyes. When Kisara did not immediately disappear, he asked her: "People don't just return from the shadows and death. Either something is very wrong, or you're here for a reason."

Kisara smiled. "There is no bigger picture for my visit," she said finally. "I'm here now. Just accept that for what it is."

"But why now? Why are you here?"

"Seto," she said his voice, and it was almost like a prayer. Her eyes bore into his and he could sense some dragon-age fierceness and vastness within the coloured irises. And if he was honest, it scared him. There was something about this woman that defied his attempts to explain her.

"My dear Seto," she repeated. She stood and walked around the coffee table towards his spot on the couch. "Close your eyes."

Kaiba complied, resting heavy lids. He could sense her approaching him. He felt the light brush of her skirt against the fabric over his knees. He felt the dusting of her hair on his forehead as she leaned into him. He felt the soft texture of her lips on his—but only for an instant.

She pulled away and Kaiba smiled. He opened his eyes and his mouth to say something but he could only muster a gasp. He was alone in his dark office.

Kisara was gone.

* * *

Kaiba sat up with a start, clutching his chest. Confused, he stared around his office from his spot on the couch.

"Damn." He threw off the light blanket that had gotten twisted around his body. Guiltily, he realized that he must have fallen asleep so quickly he couldn't remember the conscious action of resting on the couch. It appeared that even the energy drinks and coffee he had consumed hadn't had an effect on his physical exhaustion. Sunlight was already creeping under the shades he had drawn over the windows. He was on the fiftieth floor of the building, so that meant it was even later than he thought.

Kaiba stumbled to his desk and slammed the keyboard to wake it up. His desperate eyes immediately wandered down to the bottom of the screen and when he noticed the time, he fought against the desperate tears in his eyes because everything that mattered to him – Kisara, his company—had either actually disappeared or was as good as gone.

Nine AM.

He was vaguely surprised that Mokuba didn't call before he realized that he had unplugged the phone. Feeling even worse, he sat back down on the couch with his head in his hands.

Kaiba was not a man to cry. But he hated feeling out of control, and nothing made that problem worse than fighting against a clock. It was a losing battle. Time always emerged the victor, and marched along regardless of how much he wanted it to stop. Had he wanted time to stop with Kisara? Sure. But such an admission meant that he was deluding himself. His life was no longer shared with Kisara. And last night—she hadn't appeared to him. His exhausted brain had obviously imagined the entire event.

But no matter how much he tried to rationalize his vision, to explain it away in an intelligent manner, he knew that there was something much more significant to the experience. Whether dreamed or not, Kaiba wanted to believe that there had to be a reason he saw her, or all people.

Kaiba used to pride himself for being a rational man who put little stock in faith but now he was questioning his own destiny. This surprised himself and he closed his eyes for better concentration.

He tried to push thoughts about work and his company away from his mind for a moment. He recalled how quick he had been able to abandon his obligations when Kisara walked back into his life. Maybe that was significant. His eyes still closed, he thought about the way they had interacted. Perhaps there was a message—but no, that couldn't be right. She had hardly even spoken, and her answers were evasive at best. Did that mean she wanted him to think for himself? Was that the message?

Kaiba thought back to the distant memories they had shared back in ancient times. Since coming to the self-realization that he was indeed Priest Seto, the memories he had previously thought of as daydreams had slowly but steadily faded. He was willing to let his time with Kisara disintegrate like the soft blowing sands of Egypt. He had wanted them to crumble and weather with age. He wanted those old wounds to heal. All of them, save for one.

Kisara's sacrifice. It still pained him to think about it. He tried not to let his thoughts turn to such dark times. Self-pity and regret wouldn't help anyone, least of all her. And to dwell on the sadder moments, rather than think of all the light she had brought to his previous life was an insult to her memory.

"Please," he whispered aloud after a moment. Then, impossibly, a gust of air that came from nowhere. It tickled the ends of Kaiba's hair on its way to his desk and computer. His duel cards had been placed neatly in the corner but the breeze sent the cards scattered everywhere. He reached over for the one that had landed closest to him and turned it over, half-knowing what he would find.

A Blue Eyes White Dragon. The holographic eyes seemed to glint at him for the briefest of moments. Suddenly, Kaiba reached a realization nothing short of enlightenment. Kisara hadn't spoken—she had just looked at him with those eyes of hers. Kaiba thought for a moment. Maybe she knew that words were not enough. If that was true, then she recognized his questions for what they were – trivialities.

"Thank you," Kaiba whispered. He still wasn't sure if her visit had been real or imagined, but the experience was enough. He couldn't have all the answers all the time.

He closed his eyes and smiled, holding the warm card against his chest.

After a moment, Kaiba reached into the pocket of his pants and produced a cell phone. He dialed his house number.

"So are you gonna send a car for me or something?" an exhausted-sounding Mokuba picked up the phone.

"No."

"You promised," Mokuba whined. "I stayed up all night in case you changed your mind but now I want to sleep on the couch while you work."

"I'm not sending a car because I'm coming home."

Kaiba hung up the phone. He walked over to his computer and yanked out the power cord. The system crashed but the black screen caused him no anxiety.

He knew what was important.


End file.
